


The Man who was taken by the Death

by Drakojana



Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Car Accidents, Chica's here, Death, M/M, Mark is single, Oneshot, dullahan Anti
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 06:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12052920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drakojana/pseuds/Drakojana
Summary: Mark was doomed the moment he met those green eyes.





	The Man who was taken by the Death

**Author's Note:**

> Another quick idea that I couldn't leave alone. Because of Antimark.

When Mark first saw the figure, he was on a walk in a park with Chica.

The dog was busy running around and chasing squirrels, sometimes stopping to greet other canines by smelling them and barking happily. Mark was sitting on a bench nearby, smiling to himself as he watched his Chica play. He just happened to tilt his head, his eyes scanning through the small afternoon traffic of other dog owners or couples in love walking in the park.

And their eyes locked.

Mark didn't want to think much of it, at first. Sure, when his brown gaze met the toxic green, he felt a tingle in his spine. But it was just another person, some other human taking a break from their busy lives. The dark-haired man tried to break away, to look at somebody else. But he found himself unable to do so. He was stuck just watching the mysterious figure standing in the shadows of old oak trees. The prolonged eye contact would normally feel awkward, inappropriate. Mark felt breathless, anxious.

The green orbs he couldn't stop looking at held him down in place, so when Chica came back to him and licked his hands to indicate she was done rolling around in the grass, Mark didn't even spare her a glance. But all things must come to an end and he finally blinked. And when he did, he stopped breathing altogether.

The figure was headless. The dark-haired man could see the trees behind them despite staring at the exact same spot where the eyes should've been. He stood up as if a wave of electricity swept through him. For some reason, he was searching for the eyes again. To look at them once more.

When he found them, he suddenly wished he didn't.

"Hey, girl. It's time to go… go home, isn't it?" He nervously spoke to his beloved dog and got a content bark in response.

Mark hurried back home, trying to get the image out of his mind. He couldn't shake it off, no matter how hard he tried. It was burned into his memory forever now.

The shadow holding its head under its arm, its eyes never leaving the man.

 

* * *

 

Their second meeting was destined by the fate itself.

Mark and some of his friends decided to drive out of the city for a weekend of camping. A silent forest, a secluded lake, a perfect place to have some fun. No possible way it could go wrong, the area was known for being safe as well.

Not safe enough for Mark, it seemed.

He decided to walk through the forest and inhale some fresh, pine-scented air into his starved lungs that were too used to the L.A. pollution. When Tyler and Ethan prompted to go with their friend, yet the dark-haired man politely refused, claiming he wanted to enjoy just the sound of the wind rustling the branches and leaves.

His legs carried him as he took in the wonders of the forest. The lush bushes and trees surrounding him, the soft blankets of dried leaves, moss and cones crunching under his feet. Mark loved it, not caring about the fact that he was moving away from his friends. The green around him was soothing for his nerves that tended to get too stressed out in his busy life.

And he almost missed the eyes that stared at him once more.

They were hidden among the bushes, the figure standing off the beaten path. Mark took them for some fresh leaves at first but there was no mistaking the shiver running down his spine. He froze in place, their eyes meeting again. At first, the dark-haired man was hoping the other wouldn't move just like before. That they'd just stand there for what seemed like an eternity until Mark would blink.

So he did. He closed his eyes for just a second. But that second was enough for the figure to get closer, the green eyes still fixed on the man.

Mark started running. He shut his eyes and rushed forward, sprinting through the forest as fast as he could. He wished he hadn't seen the figure. He wished he hadn't tried to find out what it could mean. He wished he hadn't walked off by himself.

And lastly, he wished he stopped when he had the chance - with his eyes closed and heart thumping in his ears he missed the fact that the path ended. It took a turn to the left and Mark didn't. When he realised that more branches were smacking his arms, it was already too late. The forest ended abruptly where the cliff began. A few loose rocks were enough for the dark-haired man to fall.

His body rolled down the ragged precipice, and he couldn't even scream out of the pain - it felt like the air left his lungs and he couldn't breathe. It was only when his back hit the solid ground that he cried out. He was aching all over but at the same time, his body was too numb to move, covered in cuts and bruises. His shirt was torn and the rough sand under his back wasn't helping either.

Mark lied there, staring at the purple sky that was already tainted by the red shade indicating the sun was setting. He didn't know what to do, he couldn't even call for help. The dark-haired man thought whether this was how he was supposed to die - alone, all bruised up and crying from the hopelessness.

After some time he heard footsteps. He desperately wanted to at least lift his head, to see the face of his savior. But oh how wrong he was. The figure walked so close to him, they stood right next to his face, their head tilted down to look at the miserable man. And Mark recognised them in an instant.

The person that towered over him had the exact same toxic green eyes. This time, however, there were more details Mark could notice. The figure's skin was pale, almost white, their hair dyed dark green. They had a red line stretching across their neck that almost looked like a fresh cut but Mark tried not to think about it at the moment. They were dressed in tight, black clothes that fitted their lithe frame perfectly.

"I am not scared of you, Death."

Mark wasn't sure how he managed to croak it out but he did. He stared at the green eyes for the second time that day with his own gaze glazed over by tears of frustration. What he said, it wasn't a lie. He really wasn't afraid of the figure despite having an idea what they were.

They grinned and as their lips parted, they revealed two rows of perfectly white, sharp teeth.

"You humans don't live long enough to understand that there are things far more terrifying than dying." Their voice was high-pitched and distorted, hard to understand and perfectly clear at the same time. As if the words themselves weren't meant to be heard with ears but with the mind itself.

When Mark whimpered from the pain, the previous hope of being saved crashing down on him, they threw back their head in a shrill laughter.

"Then get up," they simply said but Mark couldn't see their face anymore. "I'll let you live for now."

The dark-haired man felt his lungs almost collapsing with the next breath he took, yet he knew the feeling came back into his muscles. He could move again. And as soon as he lifted his torso from the ground, he looked at the figure once more, only to find it stand headless. Well, at least "headless", as in, "the head isn't on the shoulders". They were holding their head close to their chest, the eyes watching Mark curiously.

The dark-haired man didn't dare to speak. He knew just what he was dealing with. The Death itself, in a form of a dullahan. A headless spirit that brought suffering wherever it went.

"The next time we see each other, you'll leave this world," they spoke and as soon as Mark closed his eyes, they were gone.

 

* * *

 

Mark tapped his fingers on the table. He tried to be patient and understanding, he really did. But another glance at the watch only made him irritated. An hour. She was an hour late already.

"Are you sure you don't want to order anything?" The waiter asked him for the fourth time. And once more, the dark-haired man dismissed him with a grumble.

Mark had made all those plans for the date, too. He and Amy had been supposed to meet in the restaurant, eat the dinner together, he'd come up with several conversation topics to keep her entertained. Then he wanted to take her to the park, look at the stars together, maybe they could even dance when nobody was watching.

But she never came. And Mark had enough of waiting, so he stood up and waltzed out of the restaurant. So much for a pleasant evening with a girl he liked. Maybe she didn't like him back, life tended to be cruel to him.

The dark-haired man sat down in his car and sighed, resting his head against the steering wheel. He had to admit, sometimes he felt lonely. He thought that this date would save his aching heart. For some reason, ever since his unfortunate fall to almost death, he felt this sick emptiness in his chest.

Perhaps he really had died back then and was now just a soulless corpse walking on the earth. Still, that dance… He wanted to do it. His feet itched to move and it was a silly idea but he had the need to hold somebody close, to sway with them to some music in his head, under the stars.

Mark snorted at that. "What a romantic you are, Fischbach," he muttered to himself as he sat up straight. There was no point in loitering around the failed date meetup place. So he turned the engine on and left the restaurant's parking lot.

While he was driving, he kept getting lost in his thoughts. His mind wandered different places - from his previous dates to alone evenings in front of his TV with Chica on the couch with him. Sometimes a memory of a meeting with his friends popped up. Sometimes a memory about a broken leg.

Sometimes the green eyes themselves.

Mark shook his head. It wasn't the time to think about the strange entity. He'd be lying if he said that he hadn't looked it up even more after the fall from the cliff. Dullahans. They were just another fairy tale, a part of some legend. They couldn't be real, could they? The dark-haired man clicked his tongue. He was doing it again, the memories about the headless figure flooding back into his mind. That was really the last thing he needed to think about at the moment.

"You better watch out."

Mark instantly turned his head to look on his right as he heard the voice.

And there they were, casually sitting in the passenger's seat. Their lips curled up in a smile that showed the teeth, the toxic emerald eyes giving him a side glance.

The dark-haired man screamed as his arms involuntarily twitched to the side, turning the steering wheel in one sharp motion.

He heard the crash first, then registered the pain. He didn't even see anything, his body flying out through the front window and hitting something so hard he passed out. Or died. Did he not have the seatbelt on?

Everything hurt at first. All of his muscles felt like they were on fire, all nerves pulsating along with the bleeding heart. He couldn't see, he couldn't hear anything. He couldn't breathe. He was hot and cold at the same time. There were thousands of thoughts rushing through his mind, though all of them screamed in pain.

And then, there was silence. But not the typical silence accompanied by the buzz in your ears. The absolute silence that tuned out all sensations. The pain was gone. The thoughts quiet. Mark opened his eyes.

He was lying on the ground. That was a natural conclusion to be made since he knew he was staring at the sky. But there was something staring back. Someone. The green eyes Mark recognised them, the figure towered over him and was currently sticking his hand out to him.

He made a sound, trying to move his arm. It was hard to find it, without feeling anything at all. They grinned and spoke up.

"Shall we dance?"

The dark-haired man's hand somehow landed in the entity's one.  He was hauled up from the ground, and he briefly noticed his own car crashed nearby. So it was a tree, it seemed.

"Am I dead?" Mark asked, looking back at the figure in front of him, who now put their other hand on his shoulder.

They didn't say anything at first, simply humming some melody that sounded awfully like the funeral music. But Mark let them lead, resting his own hand on their hip. They started dancing, illuminated only by a single street lamp that kept flickering. Their feet moved in a steady rhythm, synchronised so well somebody could wonder whether they were dance partners that had known each other for years.

But there was nobody who could ask, the street was awfully empty. Nobody seemed to have witnessed Mark's accident. Nobody was there to rush for his help. Nobody, save for the green-eyed figure.

"Perhaps," they replied, smiling at him with half-lidded eyes.

The dark-haired man sighed soundlessly. He decided to take in the other's appearance. The silence between them seemed appropriate during the dance and he didn't dare to break it for now.

The dark green hair was mussed up, the strands tangled and standing up unruly, though they didn't seem to mind. The eyes, turned out there was more to them than the acid green irises. The pupils themselves had a hint of blue in them, and no light reflected in them. They had no depth and Mark thought of eyes of a dead person.

The clothes they were wearing, they were peculiar as well.

"I'd have expected you to at least be wearing a cloak," the dark-haired man said mindlessly.

"Why?" They prompted, their gaze fixed on him with weird fondness in the eyes.

"I mean, who would've thought the Death would be wearing a simple tee and torn black pants?"

The entity spun them around, pulling Mark a bit closer towards their body.

"I prefer my name if you could," they huffed. "Anti, pleased to make your acquaintance."

They raised the man's hand to their lips, leaving a featherlike kiss on top of Mark's hand.

The other shuddered. He didn't feel the electricity in his bones anymore but it still unsettled him on a different level.

"So the Death has a name, too?" He said, unsure what was appropriate in this situation.

"I'm not who you take me for, mortal," Anti replied. "I happen to curse some of your unfortunate brethren and watch their inevitable doom as they think looking into my eyes is the right thing to do."

"So I'm dead." Mark gritted his teeth. Not exactly the outcome he'd been hoping for. But they kept dancing and he wondered if that was the way this being reaped souls. "Good to know I'm lucky enough to get a grim reaper that's at least hot."

Anti didn't respond to that at first. They mused as they changed the melody they'd been dancing to. It got faster and there was more energy to it now, not sounding so grave anymore.

"Do you know what dancing with the Death means, though?" They chuckled lightly, the grip on Mark's shoulder tightening.

The dark-haired man furrowed his brows. Then, for a brief moment, he broke their eye contact and caught a glimpse of their surroundings.

Wherever they were, it looked like all of the places they'd met before and at the same time, it didn't. Mark looked back at Anti and noticed their teeth flashing at him in a feral grin. He tried to swallow the nerves, he couldn't.

"What does it mean?"

The melody died out in the entity's throat and their dance came to an end. The final step was made and Mark felt Anti dipping him. Their head rolled off their shoulders, landing on the ground with a mad laughter.

The bulb in the flickering lamp shattered. The moon above the cliff was covered by the clouds. The park went dark.

"I think I'm going to keep you for myself."

 

* * *

 

A single woman ran out of her house as she heard the awful crash outside. She instantly called for an ambulance, rambling into her phone about a car accident. More people appeared on the crash site. Everyone wanted to see, perhaps they wanted to help.

The medics and the police arrived, even a fire truck but as they did, they all only could stand there in shock.

The car was crashed beyond hope. The driver must've died instantly. There was no way anyone could've survived the accident. And yet, the body was nowhere to be found.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed reading it, feel free to leave a comment! I really appreciate your response!


End file.
